


Incubus

by perplexed (orphan_account)



Series: Smosh!Halloween 2k14 [1]
Category: Smosh
Genre: Demons, Drabble, Incubus Anthony, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 16:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2475560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/perplexed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian gets a restless night of sleep and awakes to more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incubus

**Author's Note:**

> The first in a little series of Halloween-y fics I'm doing this year, with a longer one posted on Halloween night!
> 
> Enjoy!

The heat radiating off the body next to Ian was unreal, almost too uncomfortable entirely, and Ian knew that he’d been alone a couple of hours before… In a wave of confusion and fear, he tumbled out of bed and took the sheets with him, clutching them to his bare chest as though they’d provide some kind of protection from the intruder.

“What the fuck do you want?” Ian asked, but for some reason he found himself climbing back onto the bed. The stranger was attractive, but Ian had no idea how that was possible with glossy black eyes and teeth pointier than any animals. The intruder laughed, a deep belly laugh, at Ian’s trepidation and fear.

“What don’t I want is a better question.” The stranger licked over the points of his teeth lewdly with a forked tongue, leaning close to Ian. He was intoxicating, nude save for the sheets that Ian hadn’t managed to pull completely off the bed, all toned tan skin and dark hair. “I think you want something from me, don’t you? Everyone does, I can’t say I blame you.”

“Wh- What?” Ian knew he was dreaming - he’d looked at the clock and couldn’t read it which was a dead giveaway - so he was content to let the dream unfold once his brain had kicked in and realised that he wasn’t actually about to get killed by a naked man in his own bed. “What do you want?” he repeated. Despite only being a dream, the whole thing felt real, too real almost, like his brain was dancing on the line between awake and asleep.

The stranger thought for a second before extending his hand and stroking his fingers over Ian’s bare side slowly. His touch was burning hot, leaving what felt like scorch marks on Ian’s skin.  
“Call me Anthony,” the intruder finally said. Ian nodded slowly, feeling the urge to kiss this strange being overwhelming. He’d had weird dreams, (like the one time when he was a teenager and ended up banging an alien,) but this was on a par with all of those strange dreams. He thought maybe he had a fever, or something.

“All right…” Ian glanced at the clock again, just to be sure that he definitely couldn’t read it and that this definitely was a dream. Once he was satisfied he gave into the urge and leaned forwards to kiss Anthony, curious as to what part of his brain thought that kissing a fanged, black eyed creature was a good idea.

The kiss was rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, and yet it was unbelievably good. Ian felt like he was burning up from the inside out every time Anthony touched him. This stranger didn’t seem to need to pull away for air, or to breathe at all actually, which was more than a little unsettling. Whatever he was, it wasn’t entirely human.

Anthony was the one to take the initiative and push Ian onto his back, climbing on top of him. He weighed much more than he looked like he did, in fact, Ian wasn’t entirely sure that it was possible for someone so slight to weigh so much, but he didn’t have chance to ponder aloud how Anthony was doing that before he felt a warm hand spread him open under the sheets.

Ian didn’t question how Anthony’s fingers pressed inside him so easily, because dreams were strange things at best and judging from the forked tongue lapping at his earlobe, it was hardly the strangest thing in that situation to worry about. What he did know was that it felt incredible, those skinny fingers crooking just right and making him take in a sharp breath. Since when did he get hard, anyway?

Anthony smirked against Ian’s ear and gently bit down at his neck, sinking his teeth in just enough to leave a nasty red mark that burned ferociously. Ian moaned, driving himself down onto the too-warm fingers inside him, his insides clenching pleasantly at the feeling.

“For someone who was so scared of me,” Anthony mused, “you’re really opening up. Figuratively and literally.” He grinned as he lifted his head, pitch eyes looking Ian up and down while he slid another finger in beside his index and middle ones.

Ian just groaned in response. He couldn’t form words for some reason, it was like someone had taken his tongue from his head and replaced all thought with a swirling fog. Anthony’s fingers were gone then, and replaced by his length. He was thick and long, probably bigger than anyone Ian had taken before, and yet the stretch didn’t hurt or drag at all.

All Ian knew in that moment was that it felt good, better than anything he’d ever felt before, and while he could hypothesise for a second that it was just a particularly intense wet dream, something about it felt so real. Anthony was burning hot to the touch all over and it was amazing.

When the stranger started to move, Ian let out an embarrassingly loud moan, his heart leaping up into his throat and pounding faster. He was good, sinfully so, winding and moving his hips in just the right ways to get Ian squirming on the mattress. Ian twitched a few times, feeling precome leak from his cock onto his stomach shockingly quickly. He couldn’t help it, it was all just so overwhelming and _good_ above all else.

Anthony licked down the side of Ian’s neck, tasting the salt of sweat. He seemed to be permanently smirking, his lips locked into that expression that bared his pointed teeth just slightly. He pulled away, but only to swiftly move Ian around underneath him. He seemed inhumanly strong too, able to easily move Ian around even though he was all but a dead weight. Anthony pressed into Ian again, not taking any time at all before he was thrusting hard and fast, fucking Ian into the mattress and knocking the air from his lungs.

The stranger’s fingers dug into Ian’s hips, leaving crescent moon shaped nail marks on Ian’s skin. Ian arched his back, sticking his ass into the air and letting out a wanton groan at the indignant way he was being fucked. Then, suddenly, he was coming hard over his mattress, and it was over as soon as it had begun.

He woke up a few hours later in a cold sweat with the covers kicked off the end of the bed and his hair standing up on end. Ian shuffled out of bed and realised quickly that his whole body hurt, but there was a spot on his neck that was worse than everything else. Looking into the mirror, he saw the bloody mark on his neck and took a deep breath. That wasn’t possible, couldn’t be, things in dreams didn’t just fabricate into real life and materialise on your skin.

“Fucking hell, looks like I need an old priest and a young priest,” Ian murmured to himself, hobbling to the bathroom to clean up the bite mark on his neck.

On his way through his house, he swore he heard something or someone say, “I’ll be back soon, try not to nap for too long or it’ll be sooner than you think.”


End file.
